


Scenario Liar(s)

by takoyaki (orphan_account)



Category: IDOLiSH7 (Video Game), ヒプノシスマイク | Hypnosis Mic (Albums)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-24
Updated: 2018-11-24
Packaged: 2019-08-28 19:47:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16729602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/takoyaki
Summary: There are three things which the production crew has learnt of Phantom over the course of the first day he showed up.1) He never removes that dark mask over his face,2) He unreservedly leaves much of the decisions to the producer in charge of adapting his book,3) He keeps to himself, a singular, strangely-dressed man sitting a distance away from the rest.Alternatively, the author and the idol get together.





	Scenario Liar(s)

**Author's Note:**

>   * Left is is [Yumeno Gentaro | Phantom](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tLzcjkkdD-c). Linked is his rap song. He shares the same voice actor as [Kujo Tenn](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=awP2q2N7HWI) ie. Right.
>   * [Hypnosis Mic](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kJ-SE6dhjAg) is a 2.5D rap project quite similar to [Idolish7](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k-i6_CDWzeA). 
>   * It occurred to me how similar Gentaro and Tenn are, always lying out of kindness. I also never quite liked the ending for Tenn in I7, Part III. Being kind is certainly good. However, I wished he would care more about himself and the people around him rather than just the fans. (Especially if that concern for fans is a product through training with Kujo Sr.) So I figured, why not?
> 


“I’m sorry! Really… I’m so sorry!”

“It’s fine. There’s no need to be so apologetic for something that’s not your fault.”

A forgiving smile plays on the edges of Tenn’s lips in spite of the rage he bites down skilfully. If – he shoves down the words – that irresponsible man of a horribly, disgustingly talented writer has even the slightest shard of concern for his fans, he would have taken the initiative to show up of his own accord. That he doesn’t merely goes to say how little everything and everyone matters to the mysterious ‘Phantom’ – the writer who obscures even his face in the literature world.

“Hinoe-kun,” A soft, feathery voice breathes in lilted words.

The editor bowing desperately before Tenn stiffens and swivels around.

Ocean-deep turquoise meets Tenn’s gaze for a fraction of a second behind tinted glasses.

“The humble me apologizes for being late.”

-

There are three things which the production crew has learnt of Phantom over the course of the first day he showed up.

1) He never removes that dark mask over his face,

2) He unreservedly leaves much of the decisions to the producer in charge of adapting his book,

3) He keeps to himself, a singular, strangely-dressed man sitting a distance away from the rest.

Nobody speaks to him. The editor, who has undoubtedly lost the betting pool for assignments, occasionally leans towards him with hushed whispers, but relays simple dumbfounded lines: “Yumeno-Sensei agrees with the producer”, “He thinks it is good this way”, “A-Ah, you’re doing good. Just a bit more effort could be better”.

But Kujo Tenn is never satisfied with sub-par works.

In the ten-minute break they’re allowed for his ‘classmate’ to take a break from her (admittedly horrid) acting, Tenn pulls a chair to Phantom’s side.

“…The humble me applauds you on your spectacular acting.” Phantom says when it becomes obvious he’s waiting for an acknowledgement.

An acknowledgement’s the last thing Tenn is looking for, however. (Pretty as those lilting words may sound coming off muffled lips.)

“Hey,” Tenn begins, the script already opened in his hands. “If it’s possible, could you provide a more in-depth explanation on how my character is feeling here? Why is he tearing open the cat’s throat with bare fingers? Why does he break down at the end? Besides the element of cold numbness, is there anything that you want me to portray?”

All professional questions breaching no personal boundaries.

Phantom seems nary the slightest bit surprised, however. He tilts his bucket-hatted head, distractingly faint brownish locks – a soft mix of caramel and wheat, Tenn would later muse – tumbling to frame a delicate jawline. Slender writer’s callused fingers drum contemplatively on the edges of his mask. Out of nowhere, words boom aloud.

“ _HOW_ should art know?”

It takes a moment for Tenn to pin that deep, masculine authoritative voice to this man.

Tenn stares at him blandly, taking in the way turquoise eyes turn up to him in wait for a reaction.

Tenn is completely and utterly unamused.

If Phantom is disappointed, he doesn’t show it.

“Well, well, well, well~ well. Just act how it comes to you! This humble one wants nary a part in this.” His natural voice returns, frustratingly melodic. Does he take this as a joke? The brusque words of before find their ways back to Tenn’s lips as the edges of Phantom’s (admittedly attractive) turquoise eyes crinkle in a smile.

“Afterall… you.”

He gets an intensely bad feeling. Mirth-filled turquoise eyes appraise him, thoroughly entertained.

“You _would_ know best about acting as someone who you’re not, wouldn’t you~?”

Ice fills his veins. His head spins with alarms blaring to _shield, protect, obscure_ –

“What do you mean.” Tenn’s voice has gone flat before he knows it. It’s too defensive to be nothing. Too impolite, to a staff on the team.

 But Phantom just smiles.

“Just like that.” He says simply, a smooth one-liner that claws everything apart.

It takes effort – to _breathe_. To realize that his world has not just bore in on itself because someone has found out the origins of ‘Kujo Tenn’. That this is how his character feels, ripped apart on the inside and clawing outwardly through the tattered seams of his already broken world. (It’s suddenly eeriely akin to a time where he’d gasped and grasped at his heart, cursing it for stealing all vitality from Ri – no, he’d promised to forget him – before they were even born.)

Phantom is peering up at him, all dark tinted glasses, dark mask, stupid-looking bucket hat blinking at him in the eyes when he’s dropped back in harsh reality.

“…Thank you very much, Phantom-san.” Tenn states, too breathless to be polite.

Phantom dips his head in an ancient nod and waves after him as he rushes back on set.

“Thank you for your patronage☆!”

Tenn hears the peppy girlish voice of a convenience store worker cheering after him.

He snorts quietly.

…Perhaps, that author is more deserving of his respect than he thought.

-

The next time he sees Phantom, it’s when he has lost all respect for him.

The world spins. Through the multi-coloured kaleidoscope that’s full of cameras he’s so carefully attuned to, through sparkling gowns and overdressed ( ~~stuffy~~ necessary) suits, Tenn spots that ridiculous tinted glasses, perched high on the bridge of a delicate nose with the black mask pulled down. And Tenn, despite himself, feels the strongest flames of rage lick at his edges, urging him to combust.

“Congratulations, Tenn-kun!”

“It’s a huge achievement!”

“—To have both the best newcomer award for both the acting and idol department-!”

He smiles. He gives the appropriate replies, dropping “ah, not at all”, “thank you”, “it’s honestly such a pleasure”; pretending, as if he’s not rushing through the crowd; pretending, as if he’s Kujo Tenn and not in that instance, the world’s most disgruntled upcoming actor who’s utterly, completely aghast and _outraged_ by the way Phantom had so flippantly abandoned his duties for every episode of the season but one. [Scenario Liar] was the best film of the year, but what had Phantom contributed?

(Tenn’s going to teach him a lesson in attitude.)

“Tenn-! Oi, you’re going too fast-!”

“Ahaha! S-sorry, he must’ve been nervous throughout the presentation-!”

Tenn catches up to the figure just as he slides out of the ceremony hall. He hauls him into the nearest abandoned room of the mansion. It’s only then, that in the absence of blinding camera lights, he sees the other.

It’s horrendous. Absolutely atrocious, how perfectly the slim cuts of the suit fits Phantom’s skeletal figure when he hadn’t contributed a speck to the film other than his book. Tenn refuses to acknowledge that spark of _something_ at that back of his mind that screamed fragility when he gazes upon the other. Those heavy layers of a houseboy he’s normally dressed in hadn’t covered up just his frame; they appear to act as a barrier to hide his delicateness.

Tired turquoise eyes gaze at him from behind tinted glasses. His mask has been pulled back up. Tenn can’t remember if anyone tried to approach Phantom the way they had him. It doesn’t stop a scowl from coming to his lips regardless.

“You,” Tenn grits out. “Are in thorough need of a lecture on attendance.”

Surprise flickers through turquoise eyes. It’s just for the barest fraction of a moment.

“Why, does the little hatchling think himself suitable for babying me now that he’s been given the honor award?” Phantom chuckles. “How endearing.”

“Indeed.” Tenn agrees, ignoring yet another flicker of shock that crosses worn features. “Dogeza.” He taps the carpeted floor. “Now.”

Phantom backtracks.

“I don’t remember ever consenting to accepting orders—” He begins.

“Too bad. I remember signing a contract that says Phantom will be present every session to monitor the filming for his [Scenario Liar]. On your knees, now.”

Phantom sighs, resigning. He gets on his knees, pressing a hand to his face as well. Another breathless gasp is taken.

“Kujo-san, I’ll admit that this humble one was in the wrong for being absent but—”

“Excuses.” Tenn intervenes.

“Excuse me-?” Phantom furrows his brows at him, confused.

“Once you’ve signed the contract, you’ve made a promise to keep your words regardless of all and any circumstances.” Tenn recites. Well, he never needs to anyways. It’s a thing he’s been taught since young, when his previous parents owed an entertainment store. “No amount of circumstances can validate your absence from what you have signed yourself to. Every book, every ticket bought serves as a promise of something worthwhile to the audience. And if you turn your back on them, there’s no meaning to your career as an entertainer, producer, or—” He looks sharply at the other. “—a writer.”

“…Do you genuinely believe that?” Phantom’s voice is low. He gazes at him searchingly.

Tenn meets his gaze unwaveringly.

And just a little, while he tries to hide it, Phantom seems let down by what he finds.

“…Well~!” Phantom smiles, eyes crinkling beneath his glasses. “No amount of lies seems like they’ll get this humble one out of this situation. And I see no need to explain myself to you, so…Hop!” And Phantom skips back on his feet, obscenely cheerful – _fake_ – in comparison to his previous wornness. “This humble one will be taking his leave, Kujo-kun~!” He sings.

“Get back here.” Tenn’s teeth clicks together.

“But I don’t wanna~~~!” A high pitched voice of a female high-schooler.

Tenn feels his impression of the other drop even further into the pits of hell.

“…It was just a bit disappointing, this humble one will have to admit.” Phantom murmurs in his soft, natural voice as he turns away. “Well, that was a lie though!” A smile, and then Phantom is out of the room and his hair for good.

Tenn narrows his eyes after his back, folding his arms petulantly.

“No excuses can validate one’s absence from the stage.” He murmurs. (And once again, he shoves away that nagging thought of Ri – _that person_ ’s presence from his mind.)

-

Two years later, Tenn wakes with arms wrapped around him, and his first instinctive reaction is to blanch.

The room is dark. It stinks – it’s not hard to tell what that stench is. The first real evidence of his blatant disobedience and probable rule breaking is the migraine pounding in his head, and – Tenn looks up in shock. And this.

_Three. Four shots._

_It hadn’t been tough for Tenn to obscure his face; to take a ride into the back alleys and convince the other boys around to sneak him into a bar – he’s mere days and months away from being legal anyways._ Anyways _, he finds himself in a sea of colours. They’re all wobbly. The world is spinning the same way it does with every award ceremony. How many does Trigger have again? One, two… eighty-eight? It’s got to be eighty-eight. The bartender reminds him of the President and—_

_O-Oh._

_Somebody takes his shot._

_A pinched face full of displeasure peers down at him. It’s an infuriating face that makes anger coarses through his veins. A pretty face, that hardly matches his bold actions – and Tenn may or may not hate him for life for stealing his glass of vodka. His name is… if Tenn’s certain—_

Phantom.

Turquoise eyes shut closed to allow long dark lashes fan over his pale cheeks. He’s a tad thinner than Tenn remembers. It’s a cause for concern. And through mused wheat-maple locks that curl and frame his tiny face gently, docile pale features peek out. The nose bridge which he’d worn hideous glasses over. Full lips, which are bruised and chapped, previously hidden in all their meetings. Even in his sleep, Phantom’s brows are drawn together in soft worry. Tenn begrudgingly admits he’s attractive. But more than that. Why are they – they—

 _“This humble one thinks you’ve had one too many shots, Kujo-kun.”_ They’re going to have to worry about rumours following Trigger’s return and--

 _“Mind your own business, Humble One. Leave me be.”_ Tenn resolves to forget his weak retort. Hopefully, Phantom will agree.

_But in the colourful scene of the spinning bar, Phantom does not agree to leave. Instead, he slides into the seat beside Tenn, the many folds of his layers of clothes jostling the chairs. Tenn looks at him and he scoffs. Phantom turns to him with a lifted brow and a questioning hum._

_“Impractical clothing choices much?” Tenn takes another sip. Phantom smoothly pulls the glass from his grasp. Tenn furrows his brows at him. “And your values are as ancient as your clothing, I see.”_

_“M-Maro is not offended by your words at all-!” Phantom squeaks in high, nasal, decidedly_ hurt _voice. Tenn scoffs and rolls his eyes at him. “But putting all of that aside,” Phantom props himself up by a hand. “Pray tell, why are_ you _of all people drinking your sorrows away? And here I thought Trigger would be raising you right.”_

_“Raising…? Yeah, they should be the last ones you consider raising me.” Tenn snorts. “And while we’re on that topic, you should be the last one to be asking me what’s wrong.”_

_“M-me?” Another hurt voice at his scathing remark. It’s a lie. Tenn can tell. “Why would maro ever be dragged into this incredibly disconcerting, not to mention, turbulent equation?”_

_“Because ‘maro’ is right.” Tenn mocks bitterly. Phantom frowns. “You are an utter complete failure of an author. And Kujo Tenn? He’s a complete and utter lie that never existed to begin with.” He wants to take another swig. To pretend that he’s not ruining Trigger with his identity._

_But because Phantom obviously can’t take a hint, Phantom questions._

_“Why… do you think you’re a lie?” He asks, soft, almost open._

_“Because I am not me.”_

_“And how is that so?”_

_“Because I’ve built Trigger’s Kujo Tenn up to become a perfect idol.” Tenn laughs._

_It’s a bitter, dry, cryptical laugh. It’s the opposite of the docile, sweet laughter Kujo Tenn does._

_“But I am myself. Nanase Tenn. The person who loves Riku more than the world, enough to sacrifice Trigger. The person who loves Trigger enough to plunge the fans into despair. I am Nanase Tenn and I’m – I’m not the version of me who can wholeheartedly devote myself to the fans.”_

_He’s mumbling drunkenly, collapsing into an arm. Something’s wet on his face._

_Phantom gazes at him gently._

_“You’re wrong.” He doesn’t hold Tenn back from his drink this time. “It’s undeniably foolish how you’ve been lying to yourself all along. In fact, this humble one would go as far as to say you’re the world’s biggest fool.” He says in a cute, squeaky voice and subsequently tumbles back to his normal pitch._

_“But the version of you who cares about the fans and the version of you who cares about family… they’re both Kujo Tenn. It’d be overly simplistic to think you could devote yourself to a single one. Because kindness… It’s a gift that will keep giving. So long as you continue down this path, you’ll find more people who you care about.”_

_It makes sense. Everything does. And Tenn knows he would regret this when he sobers up, but he leans in and allows himself to sink into the heavy layers of Phantom’s clothing._

Between the journey from the bar to Phantom’s apartment, things happen. Tenn vaguely remembers running away from fans. Remembers vaguely having dialled Ryuu up to come pick him. (Hell if he’ll let Gaku catch him in this state.) But they’d ran anyways before anyone arrived, because avoiding the fans was more critical. Tenn resolves to never drink again – especially not around Idolish7 and Ryuu. He can only imagine what chaos he might add.

Then, at Phantom’s apartment, they had… They had…

Tenn looks down and flushes.

_Tenn pushes himself onto Phantom. He doesn’t know what it is. Maybe it is the thrill. Maybe, it is just that attraction that was constantly there. The first press of lips is met with no reaction. Then, the second sees Phantom curling fingers into his scarf, pulling him forward – and the third and fourth and subsequent ones all tasted sweet._

_They shakily made their way to Phantom’s room, stopping infrequently to swap spit._

_Phantom – he’s everything that’s sweet and pliant as he’s pushed down on his sheets, peering at Tenn through gently lidded eyes. In contrast, Tenn is anything but gentle. He curls slender fingers into those light brownish curls, tugs them for the moans which sound melodic, raspy in Phantom’s voice – and he takes apart Phantom, prying seam by seam and shredding layer by layer, till Phantom’s flushed and exposed before him._

_Their eyes meet as he coaxes the other open. Tenn threatens to steal the air out of his lungs by drowning him in kisses. Phantom whines and whimpers all the while. Everything seems to be building up to the moment where Tenn’s sliding in, where Phantom’s thighs tremble weakly around his hips, pushed to their limits, where Tenn spills his heat, but it’s still not enough and he turns Phantom, mewling and ruined, to have him once again—_

Alright. Maybe that’s enough.

-

Tenn cleans up Phantom. It’s a process he honestly prefers not to say.

It ends with breakfast in bed.

“This humble one means every word I’ve said last night.” Are the first words Phantom says when they make eye contact. Phantom even tosses in a tentative smile. “If you remember your actions from last night.”

Tenn honestly can’t flush anymore.

“Shut it.” He tosses a hard boiled egg at the other. “Eat your breakfast. And while you’re at it, answer my questions.”

“What is it?” Phantom asks around a mouthful of toast.

Tenn looks at him, affronted.

“What _is_ your real name?”

Phantom gets more eggs tossed at him for laughing.

-

Yumeno Gentaro is his boyfriend of two years when he decides to bring home one Amemura Ramuda and Arisugawa Dice to unveil his admittedly – or not, because it obviously is – _foolish_ decision to join Shibuya Rap Division to participate in Chuuoku’s annual territorial battles. (Using Rap, which really is the most tasteless brand of music Tenn has ever heard. How lamentable. Well. In any case, it seems that he can at least look forward to a future joint album with Gentaro.)

“I haven’t got a clue about what’s going on in your mess.” Tenn tells Ramuda the first time he comes over. He narrows his eyes. “But if I find one scratch on Gentaro…”

“Okie dokie! I got the point~!” Salutes the pink haired man.

Tenn doesn’t think he got it, not really. (He doesn’t mean scratches purely in the physical form.)

Watching Gentaro dilly-dally around that friend of his (the same hospitalized friend who he skipped all those sessions to visit), writing books for him in hopes that he’d regain his spirits and recover miraculously – Honestly, Tenn is tired of it all. It’s been a long time since Gentaro has done something for himself. (‘Kindness is a gift that never stops giving’, huh.) The whole Shibuya Division is a dubious crew, but then again, so had Trigger been in its initial stages (a papa’s boy, a sudden talent out of nowhere, an okinawayan who could have been spouting curses at them the whole time for all they know. Honestly, Tenn thought it would last a year at most. Gaku was intolerable. Still is.) He’s fine with it so long as Gentaro is happy.

It gets better, before it gets worst.

Shibuya Division loses against Shinjuku Division.

Gentaro returns battered, but bearing more bad news than just their loss.

(His friend. _Their_ friend. He…………)

“You are free to cry, you know.” Tenn tells him, arms folded around himself.

“M-Maro is fine.” Gentaro squeaks. His eyes are obviously dewy. Lips gnawed to pieces by vicious teeth. “M-Maro is……….”

Tenn steps up to him. Wraps his arms around him. And he doesn’t say anything.

Eventually, Gentaro lowers his head into his shoulder. He sniffles, but that’s about as much sound as he lets out. Tenn allows his shirt to be soaked. Afterall, it’s just like the both of them to lie the moment they open their mouths.

They attend the funeral as a pair. Tenn holds Gentaro’s hand through it.

And when the wake is over, he leaves Gentaro in Idolish7’s dorm (courtesy of Riku and Osaka Sougo’s healing effect) to hunt down the dispersed members of Fling Posse to take responsibility for their actions.

Arisugawa Dice screams, of course, the completely broke, but still hopelessly addicted gambler he is. Kujo Tenn takes one look at the man in nothing but his underpants, apparently having sold his clothes _again_ for a penny or two for the pin-ball machine, and he offers a sweet smile and smoothly, _skilfully_ makes _full use_ of his idol status.

“We would like to extend an invitation to you for a dinner party at our house a week from now.” Tenn flashes his teeth in his smile, like he isn’t unfurling a threat on the gambler. “It would be _extremely_ nice if you could join us that day.”

“I get it! I totally get it, man!” Dice screams, pulling his knees to his chest to salvage what dignity he has. He waves his arms dramatically. “So! Get these fans of yours to stop taking those photos with me naked!”

Amemura Ramuda, a slightly more difficult feat, but doable nonetheless.

“We have invited some acquaintances of ours, including top notch designer, Amemura-kun, to our dinner party. It would be extremely nice if everyone turns up that day.” Tenn stresses with a winning smile on an interview that day.

“Ahaha! Yup, you’re right! I totally have got plans that night!” Ramuda smoothly recovers from his shock on a separate program that night.

Gentaro remains oblivious to his ongoing deeds behind the scenes.

But Tenn strives to be a good boyfriend, even in the most mundane matters, (Yes, he is aware of how eligible a candidate he is.) so he goes above and beyond.

He gathers the ingredients for curry. Makes plans for an outing with Trigger that night. Leaves Fling Posse with a completely oblivious one third of them to make up, and returns to a thoroughly amused Gentaro, who smiles like he’s got a load off his chest. There’s still speckles of hurt in it admittedly, but Tenn recognizes that it’ll take time – the same way it took him adjusting to Riku as a rival – and he knows, _they’ll be alright._

“So, this humble one heard that someone’s been busy while I was in my down period?” Gentaro reaches out to pull him into his side. Tenn leans into that.

“Whoever told you that. It’s painfully clear that it’s a lie.” Tenn replies, straight-faced.

“Fuuun~ Indeed, it obviously is.” Gentaro plays along.


End file.
